CYRANO:
Why so?
CHRISTIAN:
I am a fool—could die for shame!
CYRANO:
None is a fool who knows himself a fool.
And you did not attack me like a fool.
CHRISTIAN:
Bah! One finds battle-cry to lead th’ assault!
I have a certain military wit,
But, before women, can but hold my tongue.
Their eyes! True, when I pass, their eyes are kind. . .
CYRANO:
And, when you stay, their hearts, methinks, are kinder?
CHRISTIAN:
No! for I am one of those men—tongue-tied,
I know it—who can never tell their love.
CYRANO:
And I, meseems, had Nature been more kind,
More careful, when she fashioned me,—had been
One of those men who well could speak their love!
CHRISTIAN:
Oh, to express one’s thoughts with facile grace!. . .
CYRANO:
. . .To be a musketeer, with handsome face!
CHRISTIAN:
Roxane is precieuse. I’m sure to prove
A disappointment to her!